People keep asking

about my hair. Friends and family want to know if it's growing back (yes), how long it is (not very), if it's a different color(no), or if it's curly (no). Chantel took the pictures below. I have had five different strangers ask me where I got my hair cut or tell me that they love it. I'm so surprised every time...in a museum, on a bus, at church...I plan to keep it short, at least until I start missing french braids. This is the easiest thing I've ever had to deal with.Smiling at Soren who was standing with me against the wall. The earrings were Mother's.

The walls in Chantel's living room are three different colors of blue. Very festive.

We Thank Thee, Oh God, for a Prophet

I sit tonight at my computer; the house quiet, the family asleep. Checking my email before turning in, I read an announcement, that President Hinckley has died. I am surprised, but softly. After all, he was 97, yet I feel tears beneath the surface. I walk quietly upstairs so as not to wake the boys. "Chantel?" I whisper, just in case she's asleep, but she isn't nor is Austin. I need to share this news with them. I can't take it to bed alone. They are surprised too, and thank me for telling them. The whole interlude lasts but a minute and I sit here at the keyboard again, trying to analyze why I want to laugh and cry at the same time.

"Everything will work out." That's what President Hinckley always said, and that's what he believed. Because he believed it, I believe it too. Whenever he spoke, I felt his great love for us, and for the Savior. I loved our prophet's great sense of humor, his courage to lead us during these ever perilous time, his ability to raise public sentiment of the church to greater heights. I love that he said what he thought, that he was clear about standards and right is right and wrong is wrong. I admired his talent for speaking out with both clarity and humility. I believe that President Hinckley did more for the masses save Joseph Smith only, by accelerating temple building around the world, providing those blessings to hundreds of thousands of God's children both here and beyond the grave. That's the way I'll think of him.

The church will go on and the role of leadership will transfer seamlessly. In spite of evil's best efforts, the gospel will continue to spread until the hallowed day of Jesus Christ for which we all work. God bless President Hinckley. God bless America and all the nations of the world. President Hinckley taught us by word and example how to live and how to be happy! I am grateful to have lived under his loving and watchful care these many years. I will miss him very much.

Of All the Nerve!

What some guys won't do to get their faces on the internet! Clayton and Larry with the one little pudgy I can't wait to get my hands on. He doesn't seem to have either of your hairlines. Michele's maybe? You two are so lucky! Thanks for sharing!

Mother's Boundless Love

It didn't occur to me just how much Mother loved me, and how good she was at showing that love, until after I became a grandmother. When my children were born, the center of my world was them. No child had ever been born that was as beautiful, smart or adorable as mine. (The adorable part waned during adolescence, but that's another story). Mother agreed with me, or I believed she did. So over the span of eight years, while I was having children, I telephoned Mother frequently about "firsts." First steps. First waves bye-bye. First words.

"Mother! Guess what? Brandon said "Dada!"
"Mother! Guess what? Chantel sang the alphabet to us backwards in Spanish!" (Just kidding Tel, but you were a quick-minded little thing).
"Mother! Guess what? Clayton is sitting up by himself, right now!"

I was so thrilled with every little accomplishment and I never tired of sharing the news with her. It never once occured to me that perhaps she wasn't as thrilled as I was. Never mind that she had already raised her six siblings, a couple of cousins, a nephew, five children of her own, and by the time Clayton came along, was the grandmother of thirteen and the great-grandmother of at least three more. Oh, no, she had seen her share of many firsts, yet she always responded the same to the announcements of mine:

"Ohhhh? Well, isn't that special?"

I always heard the smiling in her voice. And I always hung up marveling at how amazing my children were. Now as I look back, I wonder that she loved me that much. Because I truly believe that she did know how I felt, because she had felt it too and yet she never tired of the wonder of little ones. Her love was boundless. When I called to share my happiness with another woman, she of all the women in my life, knew how I felt. Unlike I who laughs at the wrong things and doesn't always have the right words, Mother always knew what to say. I was blessed to be her daughter-in-law those many years. Someday I will see her again and I'll tell her once more how much those years meant to me. And with a smile on her face, she'll look me in the eyes and say, "Ohhhh? And wasn't that special?" And I'll reply with a smile too, "Indeed, Mother. Indeed it was."

The First Snow of the New Year

Yesterday morning it began to snow here, and not just a little, beautiful white flakes by the billions, wafting softly groundward. We drove to Walmart where I bought some new thick hats and scarves (for walking in Baltimore proper where my classes are beginning soon) a red one and a purple one--and only a buck each! Owen spent his birthday money, even buying a toy for Soren, for which he was highly praised. We ate lunch at the boys' favorite place, Chick-Fil-A, where they ate chicken nuggets--Soren's plain, and Owen's with ketcup. By the time we headed home the snowflakes had increased in size--they looked like puffs of cotton falling. The streets were both slick and slushy and traffic was backed up everywhere. We listened to Disney music in the car and sang and marveled at the beauty all around us. Chantel said the snow reminded her of the winter setting in "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe". In spite of driving over an hour to go the few miles home, we didn't mind because everywhere was a winter wonderland.

As soon as we got home, Chantel dove right in and began shoveling snow off the porch...

and the driveway...

while Owen practiced making the largest snowballs he could...

which soon evolved into building a snowman...and making smaller snowballs...

which, you guessed it...turned into a snowball fight!Chantel, a direct hit!Owen taking cover behind the snowman
Snow much fun!

After taking pictures, I made home-made hot chocolate for everyone. I'm so blessed to be part of this family's everyday life. Chantel, I love you and admire the way you play so spontaneously with your boys.

Fantasy

Owen has the capability of going into "imagination mode" and staying there for hours. The past few days I've been to a ball with queens, kings and a very large fire-breathing but nice dragon named Scuff-scuff (because that's the sound he makes when he scratches on the door to get in, hmm, maybe some canine in his pedigree). I won the award for best dancer and Scuff-scuff presented me with a giant emerald from his cavern of jewels. In fact, he has so many jewels that he loaned them to the queen in order to cover her floor and make the castle appear more festive. Later, he used his fire-breathing capabilities to zap all the brown leaves on the queen's property--much faster than raking and bagging, don't you think?

I've also spent some time in the cellar (aka beneath my down comforter) hiding from several raging tornados which completely obliterated the house each time. But thank goodness our little dog was still alive protected by Scuff-scuff. And, of course, nothing can hurt Scuff-scuff. He stayed outside the cellar and fought the tornados single-handed, (or single-footed?).

When I wasn't in the cellar or at the ball, I was the giant evil toad who turns his enemies into mushrooms. He can be invisible and he's immune to electricity so no amount of zapping will do.

I also rode inside a magic spaceship whose people spend most of their time exploring caves and caverns and collecting specimens of rocks and jewels. The spaceship, too, can become invisible if necessary to get away from an enemy.

Then, alas, I became the magic witch doctor whose potion (ham and beans) cured Spaceman Spiff of his ailments inflicted by contact with aliens. He thought the beans tasted gross but the potion worked he came back for seconds on the ham.

Oh oh, I hear the wind raging again. Another tornado?? What are we going to do???

My Sister's World

I googled Rachel's name today and found this copy of an article that ran in the Concord paper. Thought you might enjoy reading it. The Original Unbelievable Apple Maker Sweet!

Location, location, location!

Owen reminded me recently that I live in Columbia now. The city in Maryland. Not the country in South America. Good information to have I think. Thanks, Buddy.

I Did Not Die When the Year Did Even Though You Thought So You Thought Wrong

I've had several ideas on my mind lately, regarding the New Year, the Washington DC/Baltimore temple, the doctrine of faith and works, and other things, but I just have not had the time to do justice to any of those subjects. At night I'm thinking, thinking, thinking, but too tired to blog and soon it's the next day and a new opportunity. Disclaimer: Tonight's entry is straight from the hip. Don't be surprised if you see changes later. For now, I'm making amends and getting to it.

I took some great videos of the boys playing recently--Owen "performing" for the camera, Soren talking to the camera and Chantel and Austin dancing. I lost all of it during download from my flash drive to my laptop. pth@$$!%@*^$hhh! That's a raspberry in case you didn't know.

I have finished unpacking and organizing. I even hung pictures. Chantel took a huge box of mostly clothing to a donation station for me. I'm getting my computer work space set up with shelves etc, but I know that some days I will go to an internet cafe somewhere and do my work there instead. It's too easy to play with the boys when I should be catching up on my writing. Of course, catching up is a ridiculous phrase when it comes to writing; there's always more to write about. Lately, I've been thinking about the daunting task of transcribing my personal journals. Yikes. The upside is that someone would probably have to do it anyway as parts of mine are in pencil which won't last. Another upside is the opportunity to do take-backs and do-overs. I'm not so sure that the way I thought 30 years ago would hold any water today. Surely I'm a different person. The downside is I don't know if I really want to read what I wrote so long ago, and the job is a big one but, 'bird by bird' as writer Ann Lamont says.

Brandon has been visiting since the 29th. Tomorrow is our last day with him as Friday he takes the train to New York City for a friend's wedding.